Salvation of the Fallen - Chapter 11
At the Countess’s announcement, all the servants bowed their heads in unison. Arsena’s gaze frantically searched for the Count, but all she received was a cold indifference.
“We have adopted you.”
It was the Countess who provided the answer to the gaze wavering in confusion. Despite the smooth, gentle voice, Arsena’s blue eyes wandered aimlessly. It was unexpected. Was this why they had asked about her village and birth date a few days ago? Arsena’s mind was spinning.
“God has bestowed His mercy upon us.”
Even if she disliked it, could she refuse? Despite it being an unwanted situation, she had no choice but to accept it. Arsena lowered her body in resignation, accepting her fate.
“Let me introduce you formally. This is Morpheus. He’s only a few months apart from you…”
While the Countess continued her explanation, Morpheus furrowed his brow as if he couldn’t comprehend the situation. Yet, his gaze scrutinized Arsena. As if she were unpleasant and dirty. When she averted her eyes from his increasingly blatant and fiery gaze, she found Rosalyn with a flushed face.
“I’m so excited! I’ve always wanted an older sister.”
Rosalyn embraced Arsena with a bright smile. The small, warm body enveloping her thin frame felt utterly unfamiliar. Arsena couldn’t say a word.
“And I am Viareche.”
The moment she heard the name, Arsena raised her gaze to meet her eyes. Viareche. It was a name she couldn’t possibly not know. The owner of Felita.
“Welcome.”
The ill-fated relationship had already begun long ago.
***
“Darling.”
On a languid afternoon bathed in sunlight, Viareche stroked Rosalyn’s golden hair, so much like her own. Though Rosalyn would soon turn ten, to her eyes, she still looked like an infant. She might be a bit willful to be called a lady, but what of it? With herself, the owner of Felita, and Morpheus, who at this rate would inherit not only the title of Count but also that of Duke, as strong backing. Such a small flaw wouldn’t matter at all.
Though different from herself, Rosalyn possessed the qualities of an excellent noblewoman. Especially in her tastes and discernment. A child who preferred jewels over dolls had an exceptional aesthetic sense.
“About what you said you wanted the other day.”
Viareche recalled the blue sapphire Rosalyn had talked about recently. It was a jewel named “Saira’s tears” due to its extraordinary size, luster, and quality. The gem, as beautiful as the legend of Saira who enthralled people with their beauty and dragged them to hell, had thoroughly captivated Rosalyn. Wasn’t it supposed to be up for auction soon? Though it might be too extravagant for a child, there was nothing she couldn’t do for her. For her tenth birthday, it wouldn’t be a bad choice.
Rosalyn, who had been enjoying the affectionate touch while lying on Viareche’s lap like a baby, suddenly sat up with sparkling eyes.
“Saira’s tears?!”
The moment she met those clear blue eyes, Viareche’s brow furrowed deeply. It was a confusing emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Mom! Will you buy it for me?”
Despite her suddenly stiffened expression, Viareche forced a smile as she looked at the innocent Rosalyn.
“Yes. For your upcoming birthday…”
“Lady Arsena’s lesson has ended.”
At the respectful voice informing them, Viareche’s gaze irritably turned towards the closed door.
“Will you really buy it for me? Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise. It seems Arsena’s teacher has arrived. Rosalyn, go to your room now. We shouldn’t keep the teacher waiting too long.”
A lowborn child, but one who now bears our family name. No matter how much we teach her, it won’t be enough, but we can’t present a child who will soon be in the public eye in such a bare state. From the day they decided on the adoption, Viareche had hired a teacher. Today was the first day of those lessons.
“Mom! Thank you. Really.”
As Rosalyn, like a spring day, kissed Viareche’s cheek and disappeared, an elderly lady with her hair neatly tied up took her place.
“She’s an incredibly bright child. Quick to understand…”
Though she had lost her reputation now, she was once a teacher who had taught a Duke’s daughter. She must be very careful. Viareche quietly listened to the generous evaluation that was being uttered without much meaning.
“Though she tries to hide it, she can read.”
At the teacher’s cautious words, spoken almost in a whisper, Viareche, who had been nodding habitually, suddenly flinched. How could that lowborn child know how to read?
Reading is the privilege of the nobility. Even priests who read are the children of nobles, so it’s essentially the same thing. Learning to read isn’t difficult, but it’s not taught intentionally. Commoners can’t dare to hire nobles to learn to read, so it’s simply not allowed for them.
But a mere orphanage-raised child can read? It was incomprehensible. The spark of doubt deeply buried in her heart raised its head like a coiled snake.
“She’s an excellent child. Though timid, her manners are proper…”
Keenly observing Viareche’s momentarily stiffened expression, the teacher hastily continued.
“Even so, she still has much to learn. I entrust her to you, Teacher.”
Cutting off the teacher’s words, a painted-like smile naturally flowed across Viareche’s face. However, an undisguisable fire flickered in her eyes.
***
Arsena had no leisure to look around the dizzyingly high ceiling and the jewel-like light filtering into the temple interior. Back straight, gaze on her toes. Hands folded, but not overlapping. She shouldn’t make a sound even when stepping on the marble floor with stiff shoes. Arsena’s body was tense, constantly recalling everything she had learned over and over.
It had been three years since Arsena was adopted into the Count’s family. This was her first official introduction as a Katarini. The heavy air filling the vast temple weighed down on Arsena’s shoulders.
“So this is the child. The one blessed by God.”
The first person Arsena encountered in the temple was a priest. Wearing white cloth over his body like a swollen bread dough, with a long sash embroidered with gold hanging down to his ankles. It was the same outfit as the old priest in that small village, the one her mother had clung to while sobbing.
Arsena swallowed the rising nausea and bowed her knees as she had been taught, lowering her head. The thick cloth covering her hair and neck, per etiquette, pressed heavily on her head. She couldn’t breathe, and her vision turned black.
“She’s like a gift given to me by God.”
“Haha. Your modesty is excessive. You said she’s the same age as the young Count, right? Then she must have come of age this year.”
“Speaking of which, about this time’s patronage…”
As Viareche and the priest’s voices faded away, nausea rose again. The organ sound echoing through the vast temple seemed to envelop and press down on her. A sharp ringing in her ears and a blurry, wavering vision. Her body had no strength. She just wanted to collapse.
“What are you doing there.”
The moment Morpheus saw Arsena standing alone in the secluded temple corridor, barely managing shallow breaths, he felt irritation rising.
He simply couldn’t understand why they had decided to adopt such a lowborn child.
The past three years. The whole empire had been in an uproar. A noble adopting a commoner as their child? And it was the Katarini, the owner of Felita, at that.
Why on earth did they pick up something like that? Morpheus wanted to scratch his ears off every time people praised Katarini for being merciful even to a lowborn orphan. Those murmuring praises seemed to be saying: You now bear the same name as this lowborn one.
